


All The Steps I Ran To You

by niawho



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon compliant (kinda), Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Nipple Play, Rimming, coffee shop AU, no beta we die like men, osamu is very hot, pov you're sakusa kiyoomi and you fall in love with miya osamu during a vacation in italy, they fall in love in italy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:22:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28857285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niawho/pseuds/niawho
Summary: Arms flexed as he drops a bag of coffee on top of a counter, wearing a black uniform and matching cap, is Miya Atsumu.Except that can not be Atsumu.Kiyoomi left Atsumu and his teammates back in Japan about a week ago. They must be all too busy training for the upcoming season. There’s no way that’s him, it has to be—“Osamu?” He barely whispers, but it’s enough to catch his attention.---.Or, the one where Sakusa Kiyoomi encounters Miya Osamu in a coffee shop somewhere far away in a small town in northern Italy.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 109





	All The Steps I Ran To You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my very first Omigiri fic and I had so much fun writing it, please enjoy <3.

Kiyoomi has made some stupid decisions in his life before, but deciding to go on a morning walk, in the middle of a tiny coastal town in Italy, without checking if he had any reception, is probably the worse fucking idea he has ever had. 

It’s hot. His athletic clothes are sticking to his body, his back is sweating, the sea salt floating in the hair makes him feel _sticky_. 

He just wants to go back to his Airbnb and shower… if only he could figure out how to get back, of course.

Taking a look around, Kiyoomi realizes that he's pretty much lost. He must have got distracted and took a bad turn at some point because he has no idea where he’s standing right now.

The coast is right there, so he figures his Airbnb shouldn’t be that far away. He hasn’t been walking for too long, either way.

He must be closer than he thinks, he just has to find a way to go back. That’s it, no need to panic. 

But how is he going to get back? He doesn’t have internet connection, so checking Google Maps is a big no. He could try asking a local for help, but his Italian is very rough. 

_Think, Kiyoomi, think._

As if the world was answering his prayers, he spots a tiny coffee shop on the far end of the street. It’s pretty early, but as far as he can see, the door is open. 

_Great_.

He’s pushing the door open, mentally preparing himself to ask for the WiFi password so he can check the map on his phone, when he sees _him_. 

Arms flexed as he drops a bag of coffee on top of a counter, wearing a black uniform and matching cap, is Miya Atsumu. 

Except that can _not_ be Atsumu. 

Kiyoomi left Atsumu and his teammates back in Japan about a week ago. They must be all too busy training for the upcoming season. There’s no way that’s him, it has to be—

“Miya?” He barely whispers, but it’s enough to catch his attention. 

He knows that technically, Osamu looks the same as Atsumu. They’re identical twins after all. Still, Osamu seems so different, skin kissed by the Italian sun, eyes kind and curious as they set on Kiyoomi.

“Sakusa?” Osamu seems just as shocked as he feels. “What-What are ya’ doing here?”

Well, he could ask the same thing. What is a Miya doing in a faraway town in Italy, of all places? Didn’t Osamu have his own onigiri business back home? He had so many questions but feared it wasn’t any of his business.

He had also run away from Japan anyway, so who was he to judge?

“Sakusa-san?” Osamu snaps him back to reality. _Oh right_ , he asked him a question.

“I’m on a vacation trip. Staying nearby but somehow got lost and I don’t have any reception,” Kiyoomi quickly explains, showing him his phone as if that would prove anything. “Could I use your WiFi for a second?” 

Thankfully, Osamu doesn’t ask him why he is on vacation when the season is about to start. Whether he doesn’t care or simply decided not to ask, Kiyoomi is grateful the topic isn’t brought up. 

“Sure thing, give me a sec,” Osamu says before reaching under the counter. “Here ya’ go, that’s the WiFi password.” 

Kiyoomi takes the small piece of paper, muttering a soft “Thank you.” and puts the password in. It takes him just a couple of minutes to cheek Google maps and realize he actually isn't that far away from home at all. 

He hands him the paper back. “Thank you, Miya-s…”

“Osamu,” he quickly corrects him. “Please, it’s Osamu.” 

Kiyoomi nods. “Thank you, Osamu. It was nice seeing you.” 

A warm smile crosses his face. “Same back at ya’.”

He knows he should get going. It looks like he caught Osamu during opening hours, meaning customers will start coming in any second now. He should say his goodbyes and leave him to it.

But for some reason, he doesn’t want to leave. 

There’s some sort of comfort in finding Osamu halfway across the world that Kiyoomi doesn’t want to let go of just yet. 

Luckily for him, it seems Osamu feels the same when he says. “Ya’ should stop by again sometime. Let me treat ya’ for coffee, promise ya’ll like it.” 

A weight is lifted off his chest. Kiyoomi nods and can’t stop himself from smiling. “Yeah, I think I’ll take your word.”

——.

He does take Osamu’s words. Of course he does. 

The coffee shop is only a few blocks away from his rented place, right across the coast. Plus, it’s not too far from his usual walking route. It fits him just fine. 

Kiyoomi ends up visiting the small shop almost every day. Sometimes early in the morning, when it’s only him and Osamu and the distant sound of waves crashing on the shore. Other times he stops by during the afternoon, when the sun is setting and Kiyoomi sits outside to take in the view. 

Soon enough, the small shop becomes one of his favorite places.

Not because he enjoys Osamu’s company during the quiet mornings, absolutely not because he can spend hours talking to him whenever the shop is calm enough and customers let them have a moment on their own. 

He just likes it because the coffee is good, and the view is great. Nothing else.

“Here’s yer order,” Osamu slips him a cold macchiato, making Kiyoomi raise his eyes out of his book to look at him. 

It’s one of those lazy afternoons. The ones with orange skies and warm weather Kiyoomi likes to spend while reading a book sitting in the outdoor area. It’s really nice but—

“I didn’t order anything _yet_ ,” Kiyoomi murmurs, confusion tinting his words. 

“I know ya’ didn’t. It’s on the house,” Osamu casually comments, winking at him. 

_Oh_. 

Okay, Kiyoomi might be 27 years old with an almost non-existent previous love life, but he’s pretty damn sure Osamu is flirting with him right now. 

He decides to prove his theory before embarrassing himself. 

“You give out free coffee to all of your clients? That seems like bad business,” Kiyoomi teases before taking a sip of the ice beverage.

Osamu laughs, light and easy, but his voice is low when he says, “Nah, only to the pretty ones.” 

Kiyoomi almost chokes on his damn coffee. Yeah, Osamu _is_ flirting with him.

—.

Fine, maybe Kiyoomi is going to the coffee shop almost every day because he enjoys Osamu’s company. But who can blame him? 

Being around Osamu feels as easy as breathing to him. Kiyoomi doesn’t have to pretend or try too hard, everything between them flows as naturally as water cursing through the river. 

_It’s comforting_ , Kiyoomi thinks, _to find someone that just gets you._

Of course, Osamu doesn’t know the real reason behind _why_ Kiyoomi is even in Italy, but the truth is, his presence alone is helping him, even if Osamu is unaware of it. 

Seeing him being so free, so passionate about the life he crafted with his own hands makes a flame spark in Kiyoomi’s chest. A spark he thought was lost long ago.

Maybe he can do that too. Maybe he can be _someone_ outside of volleyball too. 

So his time in Italy continues between local tourism, the beach, and Osamu’s coffee shop. It’s nice and calm, and Kiyoomi swears he’s being cool about his sudden desire to spend more time with him until Osamu gently bursts his bubble one morning. 

“Ya’ know, Sakusa-san, If ya’ want to see me so badly, ya can ask me out.” 

The shop barely opened and there’s no one inside but them. Thank god, or anyone could have seen the way his cheeks turned pink.

Miya Osamu sure wasn’t one to beat around the bushes, huh? 

If this would have happened during his teenage years, Kiyoomi would have either denied it or come back with a snappy comment as a self-defense mechanism to feelings. 

But he’s an adult now, he’s grown enough to recognize that _yes_ , he has a crush, and he would like to take Osamu out. 

“When are you free?” It’s all that he says, clearly taking Osamu by surprise.

He recovers quickly, though. “Ya’ know when I am. Be ready at 8, I'll pick ya' up." He responds, crossing his arms against his chest. How _cocky_.

“Thought I was the one asking you out, _Miya_.” Kiyoomi teases, dragging out the name.

“And pass out the chance to get ya’ on my motorcycle? Never.” 

Well, then. Kiyoomi just got himself a date. 

—-.

He’s nervous. As much as he would like to deny it and say he isn’t, Kiyoomi is most definitely nervous.

Thing is, he had known the Miya twins since highschool. He met Atsumu at the Tokyo training camp when he was barely in his second year, and it wasn’t until later on, during the inter-high, that he met Osamu.

Even then, they weren’t friends. 

Sure, he got to know Atsumu better when he joined the MSBY and, surprisingly enough, got along pretty well. So much so, he thought about Atsumu as a friend, despite all the bickering and constant teasing. 

Kiyoomi has never had the chance to get to know Osamu like that. 

It was easy being with him, _yes_ , it felt good and natural— but it was also nerve-wracking. One single look from Osamu could make Kiyoomi’s heartbeat race like a teenager in love. 

_How embarrassing_. 

The soft vroom of a motorcycle pulls him out of his thoughts. Waiting in front of his door, taking off a black helmet, is Osamu. 

Kiyoomi takes one quick look at his watch. 8:00 pm sharp. _He’s punctual_.

“A red Vespa? Really?” Kiyoomi half laughs as a greeting hoping to hide the fact that looking at how good Osamu looks on top of a motorcycle isn’t helping his nerves at all. 

Osamu just shrugs his shoulders, reaching over to give him an extra helmet. “Ya’ haven’t lived the real Italian experience until ya’ ride a Vespa. C’mon, hop on.” 

Kiyoomi makes sure to strap the helmet tight before getting on the motorcycle. He feels heat rise to his chest as he presses his legs to Osamu’s for better grip, and leans over, loosely setting his hands on each side of his hips. 

“Ya’ can hug me tighter than that, ya’ know?” Osamu whispers, grabbing Kiyoomi’s hands in his own and pulling them across his waist. Suddenly he is so close, his chest pressed flush against Osamu’s back, his chin _almost_ resting on his shoulder. Osamu’s voice echoes in his mind. “Better?”

Kiyoomi locks his fingers, securing his grip. “Yes. Much better.”

Any nervousness he might be feeling is completely erased the second they start riding the coastal highway. The roaring of the waves crashing and the moon above them making Kiyoomi feel like he’s in a movie. 

_He might be._ He’s in Italy, riding a Vespa, face nuzzled in Osamu’s neck. His own personal summer movie. 

“Ya’ okay?” Osamu shouts so Kiyoomi can hear him through the wind. 

When Kiyoomi speaks, his lips brush against the uncovered skin of Osamu’s neck. “ _Yeah.”_

Kiyoomi makes sure to take in everything about the ride: The warm summer breeze, the night scenery, Osamu’s muscles tensing and relaxing under him as he drives. 

He hasn’t felt this relaxed and happy in years, he wants to make sure to remember it all. 

“Here, let me help ya’ out,” Osamu says once they’ve arrived to… Well, Kiyoomi doesn’t know. “How was that for yer first bike ride?” 

“Not too bad,” He admits, getting off the Vespa. “Where are we, by the way?” 

Osamu grins at him. He has that smug Miya smile on. “C’mon, I’ll show ya’.” 

He extends his hand. A gesture, an invitation Kiyoomi accepts without hesitating.

Turns out, Osamu had driven them to a viewpoint above the sea level where Kiyoomi could see everything. 

From the quiet beach below them to the illuminated houses all around, to the faraway mountains. They were surrounded by the most beautiful view ever, no one around them, just the two of them, the sea, and the moon.

“I thought if yer only stayin’ for a while, I should show ya’ my favorite spot,” Osamu casually comments as they’re both sitting on top of a large rock. Eyes fixed on the ocean. “Makes ya’ fall in love with this place.” 

_It sure does make you fall in love_ , Kiyoomi thinks as he’s looking at Osamu’s hair dancing in the wind. 

“Why did you come here?” Kiyoomi’s voice is cautious. He knows he has no place to ask that, yet his chest is burning for an answer.

Osamu's eyes travel to set on him. Moonlight illuminates his kind features as he opens up to Kiyoomi. “I don’t know. I guess I felt trapped in Japan,” He admits, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, not really trapped, maybe just–”

“ _Limited_ ,” Kiyoomi finishes for him, he understands what he’s trying to say a little too well.

“Yeah, yeah, like that,” Osamu nods. “When I left Volleyball to take a shot at the onigiri business, I felt like I’ve found my thing, ya’ know? But after two years I started thinking there had to be more. Somethin’ else I could do. So I signed for a culinary course, packed my shit, and got here. Gettin’ the coffee shop, falling in love with the place, everything just– sort of happened.” He lets out a breathy laugh, running his fingers through his hair. “Ya’ must think I’m crazy, huh? Starting fresh at almost twenty-eight years old.”

It is during a warm summer night, under a clear sky, that Kiyoomi feels understood for the first time in quite a long time. Osamu has no clue of the weight he unknowingly lifted off Kiyoomi’s chest by just being _him_.

He came to Italy looking for something, for a sign there’s more to life than he had known so far. Kiyoomi never thought his answer would come in the shape of Miya Osamu.

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Kiyoomi honestly says, his heart skips a beat at the way Osamu smiles back at him. “If anything I think you’re braver than me.” 

Osamu’s laughter fills the air. It’s an honest one, Kiyoomi can tell by the way he throws his head back, chest shivering. “Now yer just sayin’ that to flirt with me.”

Kiyoomi shakes his head, a small smile creeping in when he says, “ _Maybe_.”

—-.

Time goes by so fast whenever he’s with Osamu, Kiyoomi can’t believe him when he tells him it’s about to be midnight and they should go back.

He would like to spend a small infinity there, in a place above the sea where nobody expects anything from him. Where just the moon is witness to the soft smiles and warm touches being shared between them.

Still, Kiyoomi has to admit he likes the ride back home. Not only because the view is breathtaking, but because he can feel every muscle in Osamu’s body flex beneath him as he drives him back home.

He almost wishes the ride would be longer. It’s not long until they’re standing right by the main door, and Kiyoomi doesn’t want to end the date yet. Doesn’t wanna say goodbye _just_ yet.

The seconds slip by his fingers as he tries to think of something to say. Anything that would stretch this day just a bit more. He’s too caught up in his own mind when Osamu breaks the silence.

“Listen, Sakusa-san...” 

"Kiyoomi," He corrects him.

" _Kiyoomi_ ," Osamu half laughs. His name has never sounded so pretty in someone else’s lips. “I don’t want ya’ to get the wrong idea ‘cuz I had a great time and I want to take things slow with ya’ but, I really want to kiss ya’ right now.”

The words linger between them, making Kiyoomi’s heart flutter in his chest. _So he isn’t the only one who doesn’t want this moment to end_. Osamu takes one careful step forward, his perfume suddenly taking over Kiyoomi’s senses. The air so thick, he can swear the small space that separates them is filled with pure electricity.

Osamu stretches out his arm, pushing a stray curl away from Kiyoomi’s face before gently cupping his cheek. He’s close, _so_ close he can see the subtle blush tintin his tanned cheek. Osamu runs his thumb across Kiyoomi’s bottom lip. “Can I?” He whispers.

Yes, he wants to shout. “ _Please_ ,” Kiyoomi whispers instead.

The world goes dim and then erupts around him the second his pleading lips meet Osamu’s soft ones. Kiyoomi had been kissed many times before, but this, _this_ feels like he’s being kissed for the very first time.

Osamu’s lips were like summer rain after a dried season, pouring over him with so much intensity, bringing him back to life. His lips demanding yet so, _so_ sweet, as if wanted to make Kiyoomi _feel_ every emotion he was experiencing too.

Moonlight drapes over them as Kiyoomi’s own hand finds a home at the nape of Osamu’s neck, pulling him _in_. He can feel the vibration in Osamu’s chest as he hums into the kiss, leaning down to deepen it, his tongue tracing Kiyoomi’s trembling lips before diving in, exploring every inch of his mouth.

A warm flame is starting to burn inside Kiyoomi’s chest, threatening to rise up to his chest when Osamu pulls back. Just enough to break the kiss and breathe, but close enough for Kiyoomi to rest his forehead on his.

“That’s taking things slow?” Kiyoomi breathes out, lips curving in a smile.

Osamu’s laughter fills the small world they’re living in right then before he steals one quick peck. “Ya’ have no idea.”

\--.

Turns out, Osamu meant what he said about taking things slow. 

The touches, the kisses, the suggestive looks– it’s all there. Whenever they’re together, whether it’s at the coffee shop, or at their own place, it’s like they can’t take their hands off of each other.

It should be exhilarating, but Kiyoomi can tell Osamu is holding back.

He can tell in the way Osamu is always the first one to pull back before the kiss can turn into something else. He feels it in the way his hands are firm on his skin, but never demanding, never as needy as Kiyoomi’s touch is on him.

Of course he loves how considerate Osamu is. How he’s actually taking the time to build up something and make sure Kiyoomi is comfortable, but his time is limited, and damn it, he has done his waiting.

They are laying in Osamu’s bed, it’s late at night as the gentle summer breeze flows through the open window. A movie Kiyoomi isn’t paying much attention to playing in front of them. Their legs interviewed together, Osamu’s chest rising up and down where Kiyoomi is resting his head.

It’s the perfect opportunity, so Kiyoomi decides to take it.

“I know you said you were going to take things slow but when are you gonna fuck me?” His voice cuts through the air.

For a brief moment, the whole room seems to go deadly silent. He feels Osamu’s body move beneath him as he slowly turns around to look at him, completely forgetting whatever movie _he_ chose.

Osamu lets out a breathy, low laugh as he runs his fingers across Kiyoomi’s curls. “Ya’ aren’t one to beat around the bushes, are ya’?

Kiyoomi scoffs. “Why would I? I’m twenty-seven, Samu. I don’t need to do that anymore.”

A soft hum leaves Osamu’s lips as he slowly moves to settle himself on top of Kiyoomi, his strong body hovering over him. It’s been days since that first week, and he still can’t get used to how unfairly handsome Osamu is. 

Especially when he’s _so_ close.

“Ya’ could try being a bit more romantic,” Osamu laughs, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, sending a shiver down Kiyoomi’s spine.

Almost as an instinct, Kiyoomi throws his neck back, a silent plea for Osamu to take whatever he _desires_. 

“Do you want me to beg or something?” He breathes out.

Osamu’s lips curve against his sensitive skin, placing a kiss there. “Maybe later.” 

His touch is exhilarating, setting Kiyoomi’s skin on fire as he marks a road of wet kisses down Kiyoomi’s jaw, to his neck, to latch on the valley between his shoulders and collarbones.

The first of many moans rips out of Kiyoomi’s lips. 

“ _Hmm_ , I didn’t know ya’ were so sensitive,” Osamu murmurs. He sounds _amused_ , Kiyoomi thinks just seconds before his mind is overtaken by the feeling of Osamu’s warm hand slipping below his shirt to graze over his nipple, earning a deep groan. “ _Oh_ , yer really sensitive.” 

_This fucking tease_. 

Kiyoomi wants to say something, to snap back at him, but then Osamu’s lips are back to leaving wet kisses all the way up to his ear, and all he can focus on is how hot Osamus' breath feels against him. 

“Let me taste ya’,” He whispers, a sheer need Kiyoomi hadn't heard before showing in his voice. “Want to savor every inch of ya’, _Kiyoomi_. Would ya’ let me?”

Kiyoomi would let Osamu take him to hell and back if he wanted it to.

He turns his head to the side, desperately catching Osamu’s addicting lips with his own. It’s messy, filled with too much accumulated desire Kiyoomi can’t keep to himself any longer. Still, he hopes it’s enough to let him know how badly he’s craving his touch right now.

“ _Yes,_ ” Kiyoomi shakily breathes out, just in case it wasn’t clear enough. “I want you. _Please_.”

Osamu’s lips curve against his own. “Ya’ don’t have to beg me, baby.”

The air is thick and warm all around them, yet Kiyoomi can’t help the shiver that courses through his body as Osamu carefully takes off his shirt. His almost grey eyes take him in before his hot mouth is back to place kisses along the moles in his torso, connecting each dot that leads him to his already perk nipple.

Kiyoomi has to bite down a moan.

Osamu seems to take that as a personal challenge, his wet tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his free hand takes care of the other one, pinching and nibbling at it until Kiyoomi is hopeless but to _groan_.

“ _Yeah_ , that’s more like it,” Osamu blows a hot puff of breath over the already too sensitive nipple. He makes sure to softly bite and pull at it, owning another muffled sound from Kiyoomi before saying, “Ya’ don’t have to hold back with me. I wanna hear ya’,” He purrs as one hand travels to cup Kiyoomi through his shorts, causing his breath to hitch. “Want to _feel_ ya’. I want everything yer willing to give me.” 

He doesn’t know if it’s Osamu’s throaty voice, or the way his hands feel hot and heavy all over his body, or how his mouth keeps taunting his nipples, tuning Kiyoomi’s senses to the max, but it’s too much and too little at the same time, and it’s driving him _insane_.

Kiyoomi’s fingers find rest in Osamu’s hair to pull him up, crashing his lips in a heated kiss. His body seems to move on its own as he quickly finds the hem of his shirts and pulls it away, uncovering a sight that leaves him breathless.

Osamu looks like a goddamn greek sculpture, and Kiyoomi wants to admire every inch of it.

Without missing a beat, he does so. His eager lips drinking the muffled groan out of Osamu’s mouth before traveling down, enjoying how warm and salty his skin feels on his tongue. It’s _addicting_ , getting to break Osamu down the same way he was just doing with him.

His tongue laps and twirls around Osamu’s nipple, pulling a hoarse moan out his throat, and Kiyoomi _gets it_ now. The rush of being the only one capable of making someone crumble under you. _God_ , how he wants to hear Osamu like that forever.

However, Osamu seems to have other plans as he grabs a handful of his dark curls, tugging his head up until their lips are _almost_ touching. “As much as I’m loving this. This isn’t about me, tonight it’s about ya’,” He breathes out before trapping Kiyoomi’s lips in a slow, deep kiss that leaves him panting. Osamu bites down his bottom lip, _tugging_ at it. “Lay down for me, will ya’, love?”

 _Fuck_ , who is he to resist that damn raspy voice?

Kiyoomi nods, his chest falling up and down way too fast as he lays flat on his back, leveling himself up on his elbows just to see Osamu get off the bed to retrieve a bottle of lube and condoms out of the nightstand.

His heart skips a beat when Osamu stops right in front of the bed, his greys eyes now almost completely black as he locks gaze with him and strips down. Kiyoomi can’t help but let his own eyes roam from the valley of his broad chest to the dip of his firm thighs. 

Osamu is definitely a fire Kiyoomi wants to _burn_ in.

The bed dips under Osamu’s weight as he settles right between Kiyoomi’s legs. “Relax, love. I’ve got ya’,'' He cooes, placing a kiss on his hips before hooking his fingers around the waistband of his shorts and yanking them _down_.

For as sweet and caring Osamu has been the entire time, there’s a deep hunger in his eyes as they roam freely across Kiyoomi’s exposed body, making him shiver. If looks could kill, Kiyoomi would be long gone by now.

He groans when Osamu’s lips find their way down his hips, continuing to claim every part of him. “Yer so beautiful, _Kiyoomi_ ,” His name rolls out of his tongue like a prayer. “I’ve been wantin’ to have ya’ like this for so long.”

Kiyoomi’s whole body feels like exposed wired as Osamu’s lips inch closer and closer to his aching groin, yet masterfully avoids it. His breath hitches when he feels Osamu’s lips on the tender skin of his inner thigh, teeth digging in to make what it sure will be a hickey by the next morning.

Something about Osamu marking him in such an intimate place is making his head spin. That’s not a hickey meant for anyone else to see it but him. Almost as if Osamu wants him to remember him, to remember _this_ , even when it’s over.

“Stop teasing me,” Kiyoomi hisses, throwing his head back in pain and pleasure when Osamu bites again just inches below the first spot. He can hear the chuckle in Osamu’s voice.

“I’m not. I’m just enjoying this. Enjoying _ya’_ ,'' He murmurs before his plump lips wrap around Kiyoomi’s throbbing cock, causing him to see _stars_ behind his eyes. 

He knew Osamu was good with his hands, he is a professional chef after all, but it’s truly unfair how he’s also good with his _tongue_ . The moan that escapes Kiyoomi’s lips as Osamu’s twists and swirls his tongue around the tip of his length is _sinful_ , but it’s not like he can help it.

Kiyoomi can’t help the way his toes curl, legs slightly pushing against the bed to push his hip further into the warm embrace of Osamu’s mouth. Can’t do anything about the symphonies of sounds that flow through him as Osamu starts bobbing his head up and down. Kiyoomi can’t, for the life of him, avoid the way his back arches when he feels a lubed finger pushing past his tight rim of muscles.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kiyoomi groans, voice already raspy. 

“Yeah? Ya’ like that?” Osamu shakily breathes out, laying his tongue flat against the base of Kiyoomi’s cock, licking up. “Tell me how that feels. Wanna hear ya’.”

He doesn’t know what to concentrate on. If he should focus on the way Osamu keeps working him up with his skilled mouth, or tune his senses into the fingers slowly stretching him up. All he knows is that pleasure is coming from all over, overwhelming him, clouding his mind, and he can’t stop _panting_.

“Feels– _fuck_ , feels so good,” Kiyoomi cries out, hips involuntarily jerking up. “Shit, Samu…”

Osamu just hums, mouth a bit busy at the moment, sending delicious vibrations that make Kiyoomi’s cock throb. He wants this to last, he wants to live in this blissful moment forever, but he can feel the tsunami of pleasure about to tip over him.

“Samu, I’m gonna– I’m about to–,” His voice sounds strange to him. So raspy, so _needy_. He tries to warn him, but Osamu only sucks harder, pumping his finger in and out at the same time.

“ _Come_ ,” Osamu shakily commands, replacing his mouth with his free hand to keep that steady, killer rhythm on. “Don’t hold back.”

The tsunami wave inside of Kiyoomi finally breaks, washing him down as his body jerks and quivers, coming with a broken moan in Osamu’s hand. He works him through it, letting him ride his high until a small cry leaves his lips and Osamu stops touching him just to langue over him, caging him between his body and the bed.

“Ya’ did so well,” Osamu’s lips are soft and tender all over his face. “Ya sounded so _pretty_. I could hear ya’ all day long.”

Kiyoomi half laughs, half scoffs, letting Osamu shower him with sweet nothings as he catches his breath. That was good, _fuck_ , that was incredible. But he wants more, _so_ much more.

“I’m gonna go get something to get ya’ cleaned up.” Osamu sweetly whispers, placing a quick kiss on his temple.

“Osamu…” Kiyoomi murmurs, grabbing his wrists before he can stand up.

“What is it, baby?” 

“I want more,” He breathes out, opening his eyes to see Osamu’s face just inches away from him. Dilated pupils, blushed cheeks, and plumped lips. Kiyoomi must look just as wrecked as he does. He pulls Osamu down. “I want you to _fuck_ me.” He jolts his hips forward, rotting against Osamu’s hard on. “ _Please._ ”

Osamu’s breathy laugh fills his entire world. “I want that too, Omi, so bad,” His lips meet in the middle in a slow, soft kiss. “I’m not done with ya’ yet, not by a long shot. But ya’ need to give yerself a minute, okay?”

Kiyoomi grumbles in response, earning another quick kiss from Osamu. “Wait right here.” It’s all he says before standing up.

It’s not long enough until Osamu is back with a wet cloth in his hands, carefully whipping Kiyoomi clean, his touch back to being tender on his skin. Kiyoomi lets him take care of his tired body, lets Osamu fill him up with delicate kisses and sweet words.

Kiyoomi drifts into that sweet blissful space until his body slowly starts to pick up on Osamu’s light touches. Until the slight graze of his fingers dancing across his skin tingles all over him, making his cock throb with reborn desire.

“Osamu…” Kiyoomi murmurs, it’s not more than a breathed out name, but Osamu gets it. 

He gets the tacit need behind Kiyoomi’s voice.

“I’m here,” Osamu’s lips brush against his own as his hand trails down Kiyoomi’s waist, wrapping around his half-hard length. His pulse starts to pick up when Osamu’s hot breath tickles his ear, “I’m gonna take such good care of ya’.”

It’s like Osamu works him back to life, his fist slow and steady, each flick of his wrist sending a new rush of desire through Kiyoomi’s body until he’s fully hard once again. He feels hypnotized as he sees Osamu settle down between his legs, spreading them apart so he can fit just right. Almost like he belongs there.

And maybe he does, maybe he belongs there, trapped between Kiyoomi’s pale thighs.

Osamu’s gaze is unwavering, piercing right through Kiyoomi as he coats his fingers with lube and slowly pushes the first one in. Kiyoomi can’t help but close his eyes shut and let out a shaky breath when Osamu starts moving his finger immediately.

“Yer so _tense_ ,” Osamu whispers, kissing the inside of Kiyoomi’s thighs. “Ya’ need a second?”

“Don’t mock me,” Kiyoomi breathes out, locking eyes with him again. The sight of Osamu is intoxicating.

Osamu chuckles, pumping his finger in and out. “I’m _not_ ,” He murmurs, right before adding a second finger, making Kiyoomi muffle down a groan. “I’m just making sure ya’ alright.”

“I-I am,” Osamu starts to pick up his rhythm, really stretching Kiyoomi out, masterfully gracing his prostate with every brush of his fingers. _Damn_ , he knows what he’s doing. “Just– _fuck_ , _please_.”

“ _Hmm?_ ” The lewd sounds of skin against skin fill up the room, making Kiyoomi’s head spin even more. His whole body feels on fire, every nerve _exposed_ . Osamu’s voice sends tremors down his spine “Tell me what ya’ want, _Kiyoomi_.” 

_I want you_ , Kiyoomi thinks, but can’t say. He’s a panting mess under Osamu’s touch, unable to do anything but to succumb to the pleasure he’s receiving. His back arches, a knot tightening in his stomach, threatening to break loose.

He wants everything Osamu can give him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kiyoomi gasps when Osamu pushes one of his thighs up against his chest, his fingers going impossibly deep. 

There’s a newfound lust in Osamu’s eyes as he keeps his gaze on him, almost as if he’s watching Kiyoomi break down little by little and _enjoying_ it. A throaty moan rips through him when he feels Osamu’s lips caressing the backside of his thighs, biting and sucking on the tender skin.

Kiyoomi’s chest feels on fire, the pleasure he’s feeling coursing through his veins with every beat of his heart. He’s never been teased quite like this, to the point he swears he might come a second time just from the way Osamu’s fingers are abusing his prostate.

He watches with teary eyes as Osamu kisses his inner thigh, face so, _so_ close to his aching cock, he feels an irrational impulse to have his lips all around it one more time.

“Can I eat ya’ out?” He breathes out, tilting his head up so he can meet Kiyoomi’s eyes.

For as teasing and demanding Osamu is, there’s something tender behind those words, something thoughtful behind the seconds that linger between the two of them as Osamu waits for his response.

Kiyoomi’s heart flutters and his cheeks seem to run impossibly hot. He wants _everything_.

He nods, and that’s all it takes for Osamu to settle a bit lower between his legs, carefully push Kiyoomi’s leg up, and meet the devilish rhythm of his fingers with his wet tongue.

If he thought his fingers felt like heaven, this, _this_ feels like floating in the stars.

Kiyoomi can feel Osamu’s tongue lapping around his sensitive area before pushing in, working him up along his fingers. It’s so _erotic_ , the sound of his wet mouth around his entrance, Osamu’s hair tickling his thighs as his free hand digs on the plush skin of Kiyoomi’s waist, the hot, wet sensation every time his tongue slips in. 

Osamu is eating him out as if his life depends on it, tongue twisting and lapping until Kiyoomi is a whimpering mess. 

“Osamu,” Kiyoomi cries out, his hips involuntarily twitching up. “Osamu, _please_.” 

In a second, Osamu’s touch just goes away, leaving him jerking on the bed, seeking his warmth. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got ya’,” Kiyoomi hears him whisper, opening his eyes to see Osamu ripping off a condom and rolling it on his cock before coating it with lube. His mouth runs dry. “Come here, love.”

Kiyoomi can’t help but oblige as he gets up and crawls into Osamu’s lap, hovering right over him and strangling him with his legs. Osamu’s hands are firm on his hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles where they sit. 

The world seems to reduce to the two of them as Kiyoomi slowly starts to sink down on his cock. Nothing else exists but Osamu’s flushed cheeks and heavy breathing as Kiyoomi takes him in completely, his own breath hitching with how hot and heavy Osamu feels inside of him.

“Yer okay?” Osamu murmurs, placing feather-like kisses all over Kiyoomi’s jaw. 

“Yeah,” Kiyoomi shakily breathes out, closing his eyes shut. “Just give me a second.”

Osamu kisses are sweet. “Take all the time ya’ need.”

Kiyoomi throws his head back, letting himself be swallowed whole by Osamu’s feather-like kisses, feeling his lips find their way up and down his neck.

He should take a few more seconds to adjust, but he’s been waiting for this for what feels like _ages_. To have Osamu buried deep inside of him, their bodies finally becoming one. 

His body moves in a taunting way at first, hips moving ever so slightly, enjoying the drag of Osamu’s cock inside his tight walls. 

“ _Fuck_ , baby,” Osamu breathes out, his hands flying to land on Kiyoomi’s hips and staying there. No pushing him, no hurrying him. Almost as if he just wants to _hold_ him. 

A breathy moan spills out of Kiyoomi’s lips when he rises up only to slide back down on Osamu’s length. His rhythm is slow, tempting. Made to drag the most delicious sounds out of Osamu’s lips. 

His body starts to tremble with built-up desire, that tingling sensation he knows way too well coursing through his veins. Kiyoomi’s legs start to tremble, and he thinks he might not be able to ride him for much longer, when Osamu wraps his strong arms around him, pushing him flush against him and pushes his hips up, _fucking into_ _him_. 

Kiyoomi howls, burying his face in the crook of Osamu’s neck. “Ah- fuck, _fuck_ ,” 

It’s like his broken noises light something up in Osamu, because he cages him tighter, snapping his hips even harder. “Ya’ feel so good,” he breathes out, pace unforgiving. “So good, and yer all mine, Kiyoomi, mine.”

Every thrust of Osamu’s hips is one step closer to Kiyoomi’s unraveling. He’s so close, _so_ close.

“Yes,” He cries out, holding onto Osamu for dear life. “I’m yours, I’m _yours_.”

Kiyoomi comes loudly, chanting those words like some sort of prayer while Osamu keeps on fucking him through his high. 

Osamu follows up right after, his strong arms holding Kiyoomi close, as if there was any way they could be closer than they are right now. 

When they come back from their bliss, Osamu’s eyes are warm and kind, his touch gentle as he swipes a curl away from Kiyoomi’s face, placing a kiss to his temple. 

“I don’t wanna scare ya’ out or anything but I think I love ya’,” He whispers, a shy smile creeping through.

Kiyoomi holds his face in his hands, inching him close. “I think I love you too,” He murmurs just before kissing him.

—-.

He knows it now, Kiyoomi knows he’s in love with Osamu, there is no doubt in his mind about it.

Kiyoomi knows he’s in love because his heart seems to bloom whenever Osamu is around him. He can tell because the little Italian town seems more colorful whenever he’s walking with his fingers intertwined with Osamu’s.

He’s in love, and it scares him.

The only reason he ever got on a plane to fly across the world was because he needed time to think, to see what else life could offer him. He never thought Osamu could be the answer to all his questions.

All these feelings, all these emotions inside of him every single time Osamu glared at him, weren’t part of the plan. He was supposed to take some time for himself, clear his mind, and go back to Japan.

His stomach seemed to sink down every time he was reminded he had a due date. A flight to catch in less than two weeks would put an ocean away between him and the warm embrace of Osamu’s arms.

_How could he be so stupid to fall in love?_

“Ya’ have been awfully quiet today,” He comments as his arms wrap around him from behind. “Wanna tell me?”

Sometimes, he hates how perceptive Osamu can be. He hates how easily he can break his walls even more. Kiyoomi sighs. “I do, actually. Can we talk?”

He feels Osamu tensing around him, still, he’s nothing but gentle as he sets Kiyoomi free from his embrace and nods. “Of course we can, love. What is it?”

Kiyoomi’s hands are shaking as they sit down on the kitchen table. He’s never been too good with words, but right now, he’s praying to whatever god can hear him to please, _please_ , let him find the right things to say. 

“I never told you why I got here,” Kiyoomi starts, heart pounding in his chest. 

Osamu’s eyebrows furrow. “Ya’ said ya’ were on a vacation, right?”

“No, not really,” If Osamu is surprised, or anxious, he isn't showing it. He just keeps looking at Kiyoomi, silently encouraging him to continue, so he does. “I got injured during a practice match about three months ago. It’s nothing too serious, don’t worry,” He quickly adds when he notices Osamu’s concern. He takes a deep breath. “It did force me to step down and go to therapy sessions to recover. I did, and I should have gone straight back to playing but… I just– being injured and forced to be away from volleyball got me thinking if there was something else for me.”

admitting that out loud, admitting it to someone else for the first time, feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Osamu gives him a silent nod, understanding.

“My whole life I’ve been nothing but Sakusa, the guy with bendy wrists that happen to be good at volleyball,” A dry laugh leaves his throat. “I’ve never got the time to figure out what else was out there for me, what else I could do. I didn’t want to come back to volleyball without finding that out and now… Now I know there’s so much more out there for me.” Kiyoomi says as he looks up to Osamu.

His hands are trembling as he waits for a response, for anything that would calm his nerves. Osamu doesn’t say anything, instead, he moves his chair closer to him, holding his hands between his own.

“Of course there is, Kiyoomi,” Osamu reassures him, placing a small kiss on the back of his hand. “Ya’ are so much more than ya’ even realize. _Fuck_ , I wish ya’ could see what I do when I look at ya’,” Kiyoomi smiles at that and Osamu gives him a warm smile in return. He’s still looking at him with love pouring out of his eyes, but his tone is more serious now. “Life has so much to offer ya’, and I can’t wait to see ya’ making the most out of it. Whatever it is ya’ choose.”

Kiyoomi’s heart sinks in his chest. How on earth did he deserve someone so understandable, so kind, so selfless as the man sitting in front of him?

“Even if I choose to leave?” Kiyoomi shakily breathes out.

Osamu’s quiet laugh fills the room. He shakes his head, hair falling to his face as he pulls closer, letting go of Kiyoomi’s hands to cup his face, his lips meeting his own in a single, tender kiss.

“I love ya’, Kiyoomi. And I would never stop ya’ from following your dreams. If ya’ choose to live them with me, I’d be fucking static,” He half laughs, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on Kiyoomi’s cheek. “But if ya’ choose to go, I will be cheering ya’ on from the bleachers. I just wanna see ya’ happy. Ya’ deserve that much.”

Tears start to prick at his eyes. His heart overflowing with emotions he had never felt before. So _this_ is love.

\---.

Osamu stays true to his words the entire time. 

He’s right by Kiyoomi’s side as he starts packing his things up. He holds his hand during their last walk down the beach. He whispers sweet nothings into Kiyoomi’s ear until he falls asleep the night before his flight home.

If his heart is breaking like Kiyoomi’s is when they arrive at the airport, Osamu doesn’t say. He’s nothing but perfect as he kisses Kiyoomi goodbye, nothing but fucking dreamy as he helps soothing Kiyoomi’s nerves down until it’s time for them to actually part away.

Osamu’s smile slowly crumbling down as Kiyoomi turns around to embark on his own fly will forever be engraved on his mind.

Back in Japan, Osamu doesn’t give him time to miss him. Even though he’s miles away, his presence is always there. 

He stays in touch through little messages to ask how Kiyoomi’s day is going. He makes sure to call at least once a day so they can catch up on each other’s live, their conversations always ending with a shy “ _I love you._ ”

It should make things easier, to still have Osamu’s support even when they are so far away, but it only makes things harder for Kiyoomi.

Every time he texts Osamu, he wishes he could be talking face to face to him. Every call just makes Kiyoomi wish he could reach through the screen and kiss him one more time. Osamu is holding his heart together and breaking it at the same time.

\--.

Falling down into his everyday routine is hard, especially after spending two whole months doing nothing but relaxing, walking down the beach, and loving Miya Osamu.

However, he manages, and soon enough his body goes back to being the well polish volleyball machine it is. 

All of the sudden, it feels _easy_. Waking up at 6:00 am, going to practice, playing, going back home, and repeating. This is why he got back, for the thrill of playing, for the adrenaline that courses through his body every time he scores a point in an official match after endless hours of ruthless practice.

He took the right choice, he knows it. And yet, his heart still sinks whenever Osamu’s kind smile comes to mind.

“Omi-kun!” Atsumu runs through him, swinging an arm around his shoulders. They have just won a match against the Adlers. He’s sweating, it’s disgusting. Still, Atsumu doesn’t seem to care. “Ya’ got a lil’ present back at the waiting room.”

Kiyoomi scoffs, peeling Atsumu’s arm away from him. “You know I don’t care about fan presents. Please take it, or ask Bokuto to take it. Make sure to thank the fan, though.”

Atsumu completely ignores what he just said, a mischievous smile on his face as he says. “Trust me, Omi, ya’ wanna go get that present yerself.”

He watches Atsumu walk away like it’s nothing, like he didn’t just set off an alarm inside Kiyoomi. _It can’t be_ . Atsumu couldn’t possibly be talking about– No. There’s no way, no way in _hell_.

So, why is he basically sprinting down the waiting room, heart threatening to jump out of his chest by the moment he kicks the door open.

Kiyoomi must be dreaming, because standing right there, looking as handsome as the first time he landed eyes on him back in Italy, is Osamu.

“What– what are you doing here?” Kiyoomi mumbles, eyes getting watery. He didn’t realize how much he had missed Osamu until now. Until he has him right there, just centimeters away.

Osamu smiles, and it’s like the world lights up again. He walks closer, extending him a white piece of paper. A one-way plane ticket back to Italy, Kiyoomi realizes. He looks up to him, holding his breath.

“Ya’ didn’t think I’d let ya’ go that easy, did ya’?” Osamu half laughs, caressing Kiyoomi’s cheek. He instinctively leans into the touch. “I’m waiting for ya’, Kiyoomi. Whenever yer done with this dream. _I’m here_.”

It’s like his body is moving on its own as he shortens the distance between them and finally kisses Osamu, a broken sob leaving his lips when he pulls apart. “Took you long enough.”

His heart blooms in his chest when Osamu’s laugh reaches his ears. “Is that yer way of saying ya’ miss me?”

Kiyoomi can’t help but smile. “It’s my way of saying I’m here too.”

Osamu wraps him in a thigh hug, and it feels like coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you read all the way down here, thank you so much <3.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments encourage me so much and make me so happy, so feel free to let me know what you though of the fic!


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